My Picture: Terracotta Army, Lintong, Xi’an, Shaanxi, China.

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This one lives with his mother,
and has never kissed a woman intending to please.
This one has no boyfriend
and thinks her legs are fat.
This one listens to Jay Chou,
on secret mornings driving back to his wife.
But at least his students are happy.
This one likes Micheal Jackson, and
practices moonwalking late at night,
alone and hidden from the outside world.
This one is a policeman
who thinks Britain is still great.
And the other, abandoned by wife after wife
finds hope in a cheap bottle of French wine.
This one wants be a professor,
but finds Charles Bukowski
rude and sexist.
And this one wants to be a poet
but is bored by the romantics,
and almost everyone is a poet anyway.
These are my friends
the poet, the teacher, the policeman, the professor… and me.